grind to a halt in the crawler’s lane.
on a bridge. decide.
the barrier’s too highly strung,
there’s no space to rev and fly sure

enough. car might burn and they’d
save your crush, debride
what’s left forever
(you’ll wish you’d jumped. forever)

get out. you’ll have to storm the void
full-breath, tip the axis quantified
by rush hour fear of survival.
you’re on the bridge. now decide.